Never see a sunset
by BobMcBobinton
Summary: Romano just wants to know what's wrong with Spain. Spain/Romano


Never see a sunset

Lovino peered round the edge of the door as it slowly opened. He knew that if he opened it too fast or too far then it would creak, resulting in him getting caught. He needed to see what was happening, he was not the small boy he looked like, he was getting into the hundreds. He was old enough to know what was happening to Spain, no matter what Belgium said.

He slipped past the door, the corridor outside clear of any servants and took a few trembling steps wincing when his shoes tapped loudly against the floor. He quickly undid his laces and tip toed forwards almost in complete silence. He was shocked by the lack of his usual clumsiness, he knew Spain would laugh and tell Lovino that it was proof that when he put his mind to it he could do anything.

Spain...

It had been earlier that day when Spain had finally returned after months in the new world. Belgium, the servants and Lovino had rushed to Spain's room to greet him. Belgium had made them wait outside while she had gone in to see Spain. She had emerged a few minutes later pale and wide eyed.

Lovino tugged at her dress trying to get her attention asking about Spain while she ordered the servants about, mostly to fetch bandages and water. Finally she had got fed up with him and had a servant drag him off to his room.

He knew that there was something wrong with Spain, the cheerful country always asked for him after a long trip, but now was denying to even see him. That's why he had waited for the servant guarding his door to finally decide his prisoner had fallen asleep and gone to bed himself.

It was a good thing it was a full moon that night, as moonlight was flooding through the large windows lighting his way, but it also posed more of a risk of being seen. He had to duck and hide behind furniture several times to escape the eyes of a few servants, but regardless he still wound outside the door to Spain's room without any problems.

The door was opened a crack, the light of a fire seeping round the edges and he could hear hushed voices. One was clearly Belgium, while the other was devastatingly broken voice that Lovino almost didn't recognize as Spain. He crept in close and peered through the crack.

He could see Belgium sitting in an armchair near the fire, a concerned look on her face, but there was no sign of Spain.

"I don't know why you won't let me help you," tutted Belgium in her motherly voice. "You can't even bandage them properly."

"I don't want you touching me!" growled Spain in anger. This surprised Lovino as he had never heard Spain angry before, the country was always smiling and laughing. He even never had once got angry when Lovino destroyed things, only very frustrated that he couldn't get through to his ward.

"Fine then," replied Belgium as her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Just don't complain to me when you wake up in the morning with blood on your sheets because your bandages came loose in the night."

Lovino felt his chest tighten at the words. Spain had come home from wars and conquests before, but at most he had a few gashes, but nothing as bad as what must have been behind that door. Lovino pressed his face closer, trying to angle it enough that he could get a glimpse of Spain. He only succeeded in getting a glimpse of a tanned bare foot before it was pulled away.

"How is Romano?" asked Spain, his voice suddenly softer and free of anger.

"He is upset."

"That is nothing new."

"He is upset because he can't see you," replied Belgium with a sigh. "He most likely thinks you're ignoring him just to upset him, knowing Romano."

"I can't let him see me like this."

"I understand that. He is still upset, so I hope you are prepared to do a lot of grovelling."

"Believe me I am."

There was a sharp hiss of pain and Belgium got to her feet, a look of concern on her face.

"Spain are you okay?"

That was exactly the same thing Lovino wanted to know and he pressed his face closer, pushing the door in the process. Belgium jumped as the door creaked and there was a loud bang as something metallic clanged against the stone floor.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" demanded Spain in a tone that was absolutely terrifying.

Lovino inhaled deeply before pushing the door inwards. Inside was Spain, sitting in an arm chair, the ruined remains of his uniform hanging off of him and bloody bandages covering him. His dirt streaked face was wearing an expression of pure anger, which coupled with the fact that he had one hand gripped firmly round the pole of his halberd terrified Lovino.

"Spain..?"

"Romano," hissed Belgium running over to Lovino. "I told you to stay away."

Lovino dodged her grab for him and ran towards Spain, colliding painfully with his legs. Spain gasped in pain but didn't jerk his legs away, even when Lovino began to pound his fists against them.

"You bastard!" shouted Lovino as he continued to hit Spain. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Am I not important enough to know?"

"Romano." shouted Belgium racing over and attempting to make a grab for Lovino, but was stopped by Spain putting his halberd between the two.

"Belgium, it would be best if you left now."

"But Spa-"

"Leave. Now."

Belgium gave them one last reluctant look before turning tail and left the room, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone Spain let his halberd drop to the floor and used his now free hand to stroke Lovino's cheek.

"Romano. Why would you ever think of something as horrible as that?"

"Because it's true! You trust Belgium and the servants to see you like this, but not me! Do I mean that little to you?"

"I don't trust them enough to see me like this. I just don't care about them enough to not see me like this."

"That doesn't make sense, you bastard!" shouted Lovino, as he felt his face grow hot in anger. He was sure he was bright red right then, but at that moment he couldn't care less.

"Oh, it does Romano," laughed Spain rather brokenly. "I don't care how they see me and it doesn't matter. Either as a broken wreak or a proud conqueror I do not care what they think, as long as they do their job. You on the other hand I care so much how you see me. You're as just as big a mess as me right now and it's all my fault for being like I am now. If I was stronger you wouldn't be crying right now."

"You bastard I'm not crying!" screamed Lovino as he hit Spain's legs even harder.

"But you are, Lovino," whispered Spain as he took Lovino's face in his hand.

He had called him Lovino! It wasn't often that nations called each other by their human names, the only ones who had ever called him Lovino were Feliciano and his grandfather. Spain had never once called him Lovino, always calling him Romano or in formal situation South Italy.

"So what if I am. I'm more upset that you didn't tell me. If you care about me so much, you have to include me in every bit of your life from now on, or I'll think less of you. Antonio."

"Whatever you wish."

"Good, now will you tell me what happened to you?"

Antonio hesitated for a few seconds, but sighed before looking down at Lovino.

"Fine, but only if you promise you won't think less of me."

"I won't."

"Good."

Lovino spent the rest of the night at Antonio's feet, his arms wrapped round the bigger nation's legs refusing to let go in case the other took it as an opportunity to run away. He sat there in silence as Antonio talked, only asking the odd question. What he heard was not pretty, in fact it was absolutely terrifying and if he wasn't a nation that already knew the horrors of war he would be outright traumatised. He was the most shocked to find that Antonio wasn't the hero of the story, he was so far from it and by the way his voice trembled as he spoke, he knew it. Lovino could never hate him though, in fact he was sure that was the night he realized that he was beyond a shadow of a doubt in love with Antonio. Not that he would admit it.

**A/N: Practise, practise, practise. Harsh criticism is very welcome, though be warned there is bound to be a lot of mistakes because I'm still on the lookout for a beta. I'm more wanting criticism for my technique and style. Don't be shy, I won't get mad. **


End file.
